Four hens up, two hens down

and a rat who takes bribes

I have a problem dear reader.

My chickens?

They’re stupid.

When I say that they’re stupid, I really mean it. Think of those people who hold signs at construction sites - yeah, that stupid.

I mean security guard stupid.

That’s right.

My chickens?

They are dumber than a mall cop.

And then there’s the rat. He’s a hockey fan so I let hm live.

The four older hens - our Azure blues? They are a bit sensible. Before dark, they’re in their coop, all roosted up and ready for slumber.

But the new ones?

They don’t want to go to bed.

And tonight? It was cold and nasty outside.

I wanted all six hens to go to bed.

But my drool-bib babies? You know, the little waddling mall cops?

They were yaking on the radios, practicing their lines Stop! Or I’ll say stop again!

So what did I do?

Well, dear reader, what would you do if you had some defiant post punk tweenage hens who refused to listen to reason and go to bed?

Think about what you would do for a moment, dear reader.

All finished?

Good.

That’s exactly what I would do.

An…